Odysseus Spent A Decade At War
by Literary Bitca
Summary: Continuation of the final Liz/Red scene in 3x02. Spoilers for the episode.


Disclaimer: Big disclaimer this time! Not only are the characters and The Blacklist not mine, but I quoted a few people, and referenced a poem that I included at the end in a second Author's Note. Not mine! I just love the words.

Author's Note: This is for Becca, who reminded me recently in a review that it's been over a month since I published/updated anything. :)

…:::...

Reddington stooped to pour two drinks, one for him, one for her. "Odysseus spent a decade at war, but his biggest battle? Was finding his way home." He replaced the stopper in the decanter and set it on the table, resisting the urge to hand Liz's to her. Instead, he simply reached for his own and straightened up, giving a sharp laugh when she suggested he'd make a great captain. He smiled and murmured into his drink, "I don't know…" He swallowed and continued contemplatively, "You can't do every silly thing you want to in life. You have to make your choices; you have to try to be happy with them. I think we've done pretty well…?" He lowered his eyes to where Liz sat in front of him on the couch. "I'm not saying it's _easy_ to ignore... the way people... look at you."

Unable to maintain eye contact, Liz looked down at the floor.

Intending comfort, and not additional shaming, Reddington hurried on. "But I hope you can find some...solace...in the fact that...when _I_ look at you…"

Liz looked up to find Reddington smiling almost sadly at her. Her heart squeezed, and she gave her own miserable attempt at a smile in return. Trying to break the awkwardness, Reddington raised his glass toward her, and she raised hers in response before they both took a sip. He inclined his head toward one end of the room, indicating she should follow him as he punched in the code to open the container doors.

The pair stepped out into the warm night air, and after a brief moment of searching the sky, Reddington pointed over Liz's shoulder, off to her left. "That's Polaris. The North Star. That's how sailors used to find their way home. "When I look at you, that's what I see. I see my way home."

Reddington continued to stare up at the star, even though he could see Liz had turned to look at him. She shifted slightly toward him, and he rocked back in response before he'd had time to process the action.

Liz immediately turned back to look at the sky, letting out a slow breath.

After a moment, Reddington took another step away from her. "Shall we go back inside?" he asked, turning to look at the interior of the comfortably appointed container behind them. "We have some dessert…?" he continued, his tone more of an offer than a request.

"Can we…" Liz didn't move, continuing to stare up at the sky. "I'd like to stay out here a little bit longer. If that's okay?"

Reddington nodded. "Of course." He retreated momentarily back inside, and reemerged holding the two light wooden chairs from the table set. Standing at the mouth of the container, he waited until Liz turned to look at him before lifting one slightly off the ground. "If you'd like to sit?" he asked, replacing the chair on the ground, only to lift the other one slightly as he referred to it. "...and only if you don't mind the company?"

Liz motioned him forward, and Reddington placed the two chairs just behind where she stood. He went back for his drink before he joined her outside, sitting down slowly with a sigh.

"Sometimes the best medicine is a dark night, some fresh air, and a limitless sky of stars and endless possibilities above you," Reddington said, gesturing grandly.

"Thank you," Liz said after a moment. "That actually makes me feel a lot better about my current...situation."

Reddington took a sip of his drink and raised his eyebrows as he swallowed. "What? The fresh air? The idea that possibilities are endless?"

After a very long pause, Liz finally answered, "I like the idea that...something as beautiful as an endless starry sky... can only be seen in a certain amount of darkness. Things can still be beautiful in the dark. Some things are _only_ beautiful when it's dark. Sometimes darkness is... necessary."

Reddington let the silence stretch, somewhat saddened by Liz's apparent reconciliation with her new, muddier self-perception. "'I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.'" Reddington said. When Liz looked at him, curious whether he was quoting someone or just being overly eloquent himself, he added, "Van Gogh."

Liz nodded thoughtfully, and turned back to her drink. "Did you ever want to go to space? Ever want to be an astronaut?" Liz asked.

"No, no," Reddington answered quickly. "The sea was always big enough for me; held enough promise... of danger...adventure...freedom. No, space was always for other men. Not me." Reddington cast a glance in Liz's direction, relieved to see her gaze unwaveringly locked on the sky above them. "There are certain things in life that are too beautiful to approach, and you're better off admiring them from afar." Reddington leaned his head back and looked up again. "I adore the night sky...but I don't need to blast up into it in a spaceship. The view from the deck of a boat is quite enough to satisfy me."

Liz sipped her drink, and tucked a section of her wind-blown hair behind one ear. "I thought leaving everything… my life, my friends, my job, my home… I thought it would make me sad. I thought it would be harder. But now, I just feel…" Liz dropped her eyes to study the glass in her hands. "I know you're here with me, but… I don't know… I still feel alone. I feel very, very isolated."

"You're on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and no-one knows your location. A feeling of isolation is completely rational, given the circumstances. But it should also give you some comfort. No-one can harm you if no-one can reach you. If you're untouchable, you're free from danger."

Liz took another swallow, and cut her eyes sideways at Reddington. "Is that how you live your life? Is that the way you look at it? If you're alone, you're safe?"

"Not 'alone' so much as..." Reddington considered his words before starting again. "Pretend you're the moon. You can look down on Earth; you can look out at the stars around you. You're a part of the universe, but your exact position isn't easily accessible to anything that could hurt you. And yet you can exert a great deal of influence. Tides, religion, people's moods…"

Liz gave a small smile and bobbed her head slightly. "Still looks like a lonely life. She doesn't have anyone to share it with."

"Oh, but she does," Reddington said, furrowing his brow. "There's a poem about it… I don't remember the exact words, but the general idea was that the sun? He _adores_ the moon. So much so that every night he dies to let her breathe. He's more powerful than anything else in the solar system, but… he's always willing to walk away so that she might rise again."

Liz found herself staring at him as he spoke. For his part, his eyes were directed out toward the horizon, but she got the sense he wasn't watching anything in particular. "Still lonely," she whispered. "The sun and the moon… they never get to be together."

Reddington tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "You've never seen the moon before the sun has set? It happens occasionally…"

"But they're on opposite sides of the sky…?" Liz argued, her voice soft, almost pleading.

Reddington finally turned to look at her, and offered her a melancholy smile. "Like I said… some things in life are too beautiful to approach… And some people just don't deserve to get too close to them."

Liz opened her mouth to speak, but Reddington reached for her glass and stood. "You look like you could use a refill," he said lightly, with a practiced smile. "And there's a slice of tiramisu in there that's calling my name." Reddington wove his fingers around the stems of both glasses in one hand while he picked up the back of his chair with the other. "Take as much time out here as you'd like… dessert will be waiting for you whenever you're ready."

Liz watched him retreat into the container and busy himself with dishes and dessert for a moment before turning her attention back to the night sky. With the North Star on her left, and the moon on her right, Liz sank back against the chair, unwilling to give up her view just yet.

…:::...

Author's Note: So… fluffy angst? Flangst? Or just fluff? I don't know, since I've never written it before. Would I recognize fluff if I wrote it? I think this is flangst.

Also, the poem Reddington references can be found on the author's blog (again, not mine!): pleiades513 dot wordpress dot com


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